


Song of Evenings

by SkyLeaf



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Angst, Eye Trauma, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Loss, Post-Ocarina of Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: Within the Lost Woods, Link searches for an old friend and the years he has left behind.
Relationships: Link & Saria (Legend of Zelda)
Kudos: 5





	Song of Evenings

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fic I wrote because I thought about what Link's life might have been like after the end of Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask and the themes of loss that were present in those games made me quite emotional.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this :)

It was just past midday, the sun still shining down from its place up high in the sky, when Link entered the Lost Woods.

With his sword at his side and the ocarina in his pocket, Link turned around to cast one last glance towards Kokiri Village, the houses almost seeming to greet him despite the fact that he had been careful not to let any of the inhabitants see him while entering the forest, before he climbed through the tree trunk, only noticing that he held his breath as he passed through to the other side, finding himself in a world of green, to let out a shaky breath, the sound of a laugh already sounding oddly muffled in the middle of the forest. Despite it all, despite the fact that he knew he could recognise the little indents in the ground where years of running through the forest, following Saria’s melody, had yet to be fully erased by time like almost every other thing in his life had been, Link could not help but cling onto the sound of his own voice, finding a strange level of comfort in it as he began to make his way deeper into the woods.

It took him several hours of walking, a branch he had picked up from the ground acting as a walking stick to help him maintain a steady pace, the foliage of the trees creating what seemed to be an impenetrable roof above his head, to realise why he was still making noise, why he was humming Saria’s song beneath his breath as he walked, the rhythm of his footfalls matching the song: other than the sound of his own voice and the soft thud of his boots against the floor of leaves and twigs, it was quiet in the forest. Where he had expected to hear the familiar tones of Saria’s ocarina, there was now only quiet, leaving the forest to rest in an almost eerie sense of silence as he continued deeper into it.

Pausing for a moment, Link turned around. It was not the first time since he had bid the queen goodbye two weeks ago to journey back to the Kokiri Forest, citing personal reasons and the loss of a friend as the things that had motivated him to make the decision when Zelda had looked at him with the worry of a friend rather than a monarch in her eyes, that he had felt the doubt swell in his chest, the nightmares and stories about the children who had got lost inside the woods still as clear as a crystal in his memory, but it was the first time he had truly allowed himself to wonder what might happen to him, should he find himself lost as well. It had been a popular tale among the Kokiri in his childhood, to tell about the people who had ventured too far into the forest only to get lost and lose themselves, becoming little more than a shadow of themselves that took the form of a Stalfos, the morale being clear in the way the Deku Tree would remind them not to let the same fate befall them, to remain safe in their little glade.

Back then, Link had regarded it as yet another story, but as the sun began to dip below the horizon, drawing long shadows in front of him, he could not help but wonder if there had been some degree of truth to it after all.

However, if that was the case, turning around would be hopeless, so, loudly humming along to the song Saria had taught him before he had first left the forest, trying to ignore the way he knew that it was little more than a way for him to maintain hope and push the darkness away, Link continued to walk deeper into the forest.

It would be all right, he had to believe that. Soon, he would find himself in the glade that had become his and Saria’s little spot; soon, he would find her again. With Ganondorf having been sealed away, he had to believe that she was still there and had not moved on to become a sage yet. He had to.

+++

He walked.

A couple of times, Link tried to keep his thoughts busy, to keep them from venturing too close to everything that hurt, everything that made his heart feel like it could not take it anymore—he could not think about having left for Castle Town, fully believing that he would be back in just a couple of weeks, only to become just as trapped by his own fate as he had been the first time he had been sent through space and time—first by running through the forest, the dry leaves crushed beneath his boots as he let himself focus on the rhythm of his heavy breathing and the way his lungs began to work faster to supply his body with oxygen, the air having the same quality to it, the feeling of it becoming a little thinner to last for longer, as when he had first put on the Zora tunic, the blue material of it looking almost like the still waters of Lake Hylia as he had stood on the bank, trying to convince himself that it might really work, that it was not yet another trap with the intent of ensuring that Ganondorf would be able to continue on his path through Hyrule, but slowly finding himself sprinting so quickly that his lungs felt like they were on fire, the same unbearable heat of Death Mountain filling them as he found himself running past tree after tree after tree.

The world had already blurred together to a point where he could not tell whether he had truly already passed by the little formation of trees once before or if it was simply the power of the Lost Woods that had already overwhelmed him, doing what not even time itself or a falling moon had been able to, but as the days passed, Link found himself without the energy to care.

He would pass by a cluster of trees, everything about them, from their positions to the way the branches would cut into the air, at once familiar and strange to him, the idea of cutting a mark into the bark of one of them entering his head, only for him to dismiss it the next moment.

Even if it had not been for the fact that he knew better than to believe that the forest could be tricked by such a simple action, he would not have been able to find the energy to lift up the sword. Already, it felt impossibly heavy at his side, a deadweight that continued to dangle from his hip, moving his centre of gravity ever so slightly every time he took a step. Several times, he had had to reach down to keep it still just to be able to keep himself upright.

Walking through the Lost Woods, his old life had never felt more distant. It was not only his childhood in the forest, all the times Saria had gone to wake him up, having already pulled out her ocarina by the time they would get to their meadow, that was slipping through his fingers, the memories feeling more like a tale someone had told him to keep the bad dreams at bay. The years he had spent inside Castle Town, the war that had ensued after he, blindly following Zelda’s advice without a thought for the consequences of changing the past, had gone to her to warn her about Ganondorf’s plan, the search for Navi that had taken its place soon after—all of it was fading as well.

If he closed his eyes, Link could almost picture the combination of surprise and joy that had made Zelda’s eyes shine in the sunlight when he had returned, the years away having forced him to give up his search for his companion, but the memory was no longer as vivid as it had once been. Try as he might, he could no longer remember what her parting words to him had been, only vaguely recalling how she had reached out to straighten the medals on his jacket while wishing him good luck.

Why had he not brought the jacket with him?

As he manoeuvred around a tree trunk that, even while lying on the ground still managed to be taller than him, Link wondered what had gone through his head to have caused him to leave all of that behind. The jacket might not have been his armour and helmet, might not have been as useful as the light metal in a battle, but it would at least have provided him with a way to cling onto his memories for even a little longer. As it was, he could already feel how the mist descended, bathing the forest in an otherworldly glow as he struggled to keep track of who he was, why he was there, and what he had yet to achieve.

Link, Saria, an attempt at figuring out where she was.

It should be simple enough to remember, but still, the longer time he spent inside the forest, the more Link could feel how the thoughts and memories grew fuzzy. And still, he continued to walk forwards, knowing that turning around would be his doom.

+++

He was not sure how much time had passed when he began to think he could hear voices. It might have been days, but Link could not deny that he had no idea about whether or not that was true or just the result of the forest having finally reached past his defences. Perhaps it had been mere minutes since he had first set foot in the Lost Woods, the faint memories of the sun sinking and rising being little more than a lie he had told himself to maintain hope. He was not sure what he hoped to be true, if it would be better to at least know that it had taken more than a couple of hours for the magic of the forest to take hold of him, or if he would prefer to believe that there might still be hope for him.

No matter how much time he had spent inside the Lost Woods already, fact was that he had just turned to take in the sight of a pond, the dark waters not revealing its depth, when he first heard the voices.

At first, it was a single voice, weaving through the air as it reached his ears, the laughter it contained feeling almost like a blade as it filled his mind, whispering to him. “You don’t belong here. You never have. Look at you; you don’t even have a fairy!”

Feeling how his muscles grew tense, Link clenched his teeth, his mind finally connecting the voice to the name it belonged to.

Mido.

All the things he had already forgot, and he could still picture the way Mido would cross his arms while telling him that he was not really part of the village without a fairy. Pushing through a bush, Link felt the anger begin to build up, the branches breaking in front of him as he shoved them aside.

Beside him, he could still hear the laughter in Mido’s voice as he continued. “That is not how we Kokiri treat the forest around us, Link. I thought you would at least have learnt that already. You were always so determined to be like the rest of us, but, in here, you show your true self. In here, you make it clear that there was a reason for why you could never have a fairy, a reason for why she left you the moment you no longer were useful to us.”

“Shut up!”

The memory of how Navi had flown up into the light was already fading, disappearing completely as Link drew his sword, spinning around to strike.

He achieved nothing more than a couple of cut branches that hit the ground with a soft thud, Mido’s voice still ringing in his ears as he stood, holding the sword up in front of him, the adrenaline making his heartbeat quicken as he gripped the hilt so tightly that he could feel how it cut into his gloves, the leather struggling beneath the pressure of protecting him from the coldness of the hilt.

For a moment, Link could not help but wish that the leather had not been there at all to act as a protecting barrier between himself and the sword. Let it cut into his skin, leaving marks. Let it remind him of the first battle, of how he had become general by rising up from the lowest of ranks, the soldiers around him whispering that he did not fight like someone of his age, commenting on Link’s hand instantly reaching for his sword without him even having to think about it each time he would hear a strange sound, a fact that had saved his battalion more times than he was able to remember. But then he regained his senses, sheathing the sword once again as he took a deep breath.

He could not allow the forest to seize control of him this easily. He simply could not give in yet, not before he had at least found Saria. Once he had done that, once he had looked at her and apologised for disappearing all those years ago, it would not matter anymore, but until then, he had to fight back against the strange allure the thought of giving in to the magic around him and letting go of himself held.

“You are nothing more than a figment of my imagination.” his voice sounded oddly hoarse, the song clearly not having been enough to keep it from growing weak. Clearing his throat, Link fought against the urge to fall silent yet again. “You are not here.”

No one answered, the silence almost feeling like a physical presence as Link spun around in a circle, searching for even the smallest of signs that someone or something had heard him. Of course there wasn’t an answer. Shaking his head, Link tried his best to regain control of his mind. There was no answer because he was the only one there. There was only silence because Mido had never been there in the first place, the sound of his voice being little more than a sign of the forest having already made its way into his mind.

He had to fight back, but as Link took another step forwards, careful to keep walking in a straight line, he could not help but feel unarmed and vulnerable, the sword at his side feeling just as useless as his thin tunic as he continued deeper into the forest.

+++

After a while, Link settled into a routine—applying the word to the never-ending expanse of green-green-green that burnt itself into his mind, staying there even as he closed his eyes to sleep, it made it all seem a little less hopeless.

Waking up to the same sight of green foliage that had met him for what began to feel like an eternity, Link—that was his name, yes, Link, he was still someone, someone with a name, friends, friend—would follow the sun, taking in what little light was able to pierce the roof of leaves above his head. At midday, just as the sun reached its apex, bringing with it the memory of having looked at a similar sight when he had first made the decision to enter the forest, he would sleep, only to wake up in the afternoon and once more allow the sun to guide him forwards, drinking up what little sunlight he was able to catch before sunset.

The sword was still there, still present at his side the same way it had been in the past, but the longer Link continued to walk, the more times he woke up to push himself back up again, the more the details of just what that past had entailed began to blur together. When he focused, he could still vaguely recall a war, the princess who had gone to her father to tell him to trust the strange kid who had made his way into the castle, but other than that, it was all little more than a couple of words, a memory of a sword glinting in the sunlight as he parried the blow just in time, sparks flying as the blades met.

A couple of times, he would find himself reaching for the sword, but each time, just before he would have been able to touch it, he would find himself pulling away, his hand feeling like it was burning. Pressing it against his chest, Link could just barely make out the faded outline of a shape—a series of triangles, the light one of them emitted only faintly visible beneath the leather of his glove—but although he was certain that it was important, he could no longer recall just what it meant or why he would sometimes find himself pulling off the glove with the tips of his fingers to look at the mark.

With the leaves growing closer the further he ventured into the forest, the glow soon became the brightest source of light, even if Link was certain that it grew dimmer with every moment he spent inside the forest. Although he was no longer certain just what the mark meant or why he would look at it in the darkest hour of the night, the thought of it disappearing completely sent a shiver down his back, leaving Link unable to ignore the fear that bloomed in his chest when he tried to envision what his hand would look like without the mark, how dark it would be without it.

Putting the glove back on, he could only hope that it would still be there the next time he would look.

Link once again picked up his walking stick to continue to journey deeper into the Lost Woods.

+++

It had to come to an end sooner or later.

That much, Link had been aware of as he went to walk around a pond, the faint reflection of the sun in the water almost seeming to call out for him, knowing that, with how his body had grown heavier, how he had placed more and more of his weight onto the walking stick over those last couple of steps, it would have to give way soon. Still, the fact that he should have known what would happen did not do anything to lessen his shock when he heard the branch snap beneath him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Landing awkwardly on his side, the sheath being all that kept him from dying at the blade of his own sword, Link could only just muster up the strength to roll over until he lay on his back, looking directly up at the verdant treetops above him, out of breath and without the energy to even care about the cold that seeped into his tunic from the dirt below.

It was then that he felt it, the little push of something in his pocket. For a moment, Link could only close his eyes, trying his best to ignore his discomfort, but, almost like it wanted to insist on him getting up, moving along, the sensation of something being in the way only grew, slowly becoming all he could think about as he lay there, all but waiting for it to end.

With a groan that felt deafening in the silence around him, Link pressed against the ground, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he searched through his pocket to find what object had caused the uncomfortable feeling. Making contact with the cold surface of what felt like burnt clay, Link retrieved it, careful not to give in to the temptation of clenching his fist to see how much pressure it could take.

The ocarina, his mind supplying him with the name, a fraction of a memory at least surfacing, looked small as he held it up in front of his face, the never-ending expanse of green around him almost making it seem like the blue coating had taken on a green tinge. Instinctively, he could not help but imagine the same instrument, but with a brown glaze rather than a brilliant blue. He had had that once; there had been another ocarina before the one he was now holding in his hand, one he had lost. But how?

The answer appeared in front of him within a moment, Link holding onto it as the memory slowly returned to him, the image at first a blurry mess, but then gradually growing clearer, until he could remember just what had happened. The horse, he had failed to notice the horse in time, for a moment taken aback as he looked up at the man who stared down at him with a glint in his eyes that let him know that no matter what, Link would not be the victor in the ensuing battle. He had taken and destroyed the old ocarina, mistakenly believing that it was the one Link was now holding in his hand. He and he alone had been the one to destroy the ocarina Saria had gifted him, he could remember that now, the memory of Saria being the first time in as long as he could remember that the colour green had meant anything but forest to him. She had given him the ocarina when he had first left Kokiri Forest.

But along with the memory of his friend, other memories returned as well, and Link could only close his eyes and fight to hang onto every little thing he could find, struggling against the urge to give into the rage and let it blind him as he remembered the rest. Mido, the lack of a fairy, feeling alone and out of place among his friends, finally meeting his fairy only for her to leave him as well—the feelings all came back to him.

Casting a glance down at the ocarina that did not belong to him after all, the question of whether or not he had ever belonged in the forest in the first place pushed against his resolve not to give up. It was tempting to let it happen and simply accept the fact that he was lost, wandering around inside the Lost Woods. It seemed to be what Mido would have expected from him, the memories already becoming foggy as Link struggled to hold onto them, left with only Mido’s sardonic laugh as the exact shade of Saria’s hair faded away into the chorus of green-green-green. However, even as the details disappeared once more, he still had the ocarina. Clutching it to his chest for a moment, Link breathed in, forcing himself to relax, counting the rhythm his heartbeat created. Only when it matched the melody of the song he could barely recall did Link continue his journey deeper into the woods.

+++

The residents of the Lost Woods seemed intent on leaving him alone. Despite knowing that, in the end, it would perhaps be healthier for him to talk with someone, Link was grateful for that. Each time he tried to speak, repeating his name and age to himself, he found that his voice had grown a little rustier, a little less smooth, as the consequences of the lack of use began to take effect. Walking past the bushes and grassy glades of the Lost Woods, Link made sure to look for signs of life, faintly recalling the way a Deku Scrub would sound when addressing him, but it appeared that the forest had been deserted, leaving him as the only soul who had been unfortunate enough to become lost in there. A couple of times, he saw how a sunbeam won the fight with the trees and hit a stump of a tree, the sight of it almost seeming to call out to him, telling him to walk closer to it, but the one time he had obeyed, he had been left as lonely as ever as he stood there, the forest remaining silent even as he stepped up onto the stump. After that, Link had made sure to avoid the sunbeams, whispering to himself over and over again that there was no one other than himself there.

That was how he stepped into the glade, the sound of his hoarse whisper ringing in his ears, head bowed, and gaze fixed on the ground, looking out for the twigs that would sometimes stick out from the undergrowth, creating the perfect trap for him to stumble over, already feeling the boredom set in as he walked past yet another pond filled with still waters that seemed like it was meant to steal what little light there might have been around him, dragging it into the deep darkness of the water, even though it could not have been more than a couple of minutes since he had awoken from his midday nap.

It was then that he heard the growl coming from his right-hand side.

Already reaching for his sword, Link spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of glowing, green eyes as the beast lunged at him, baring its teeth as he drew back, somehow able to summon the strength to parry its attack with his sword, only barely keeping it from being able to strike him with its claws. The monster fell back, keeping its tail low as it began to circle him, its gaze never leaving him as it slowly made its way around him, Link following along as well.

A Wolfos, Link realised, the name of the monster somehow only serving to make it appear all the more frightening as it moved silently through the forest, its paws not making even the slightest sound as it placed its weight on the ground. It was a Wolfos.

He did not know how he knew it or how he had first learnt the name, but none of that mattered in that moment. All he could think about was how his body moved as if it was obeying the order of an outside force, the adrenaline making him feel almost dizzy as he raised his sword again to block yet another attack, the sickly green light that reached them glinting in the claws of the beast as he ducked, holding up the sword.

The Wolfos retreated once more, Link’s mind finally beginning to catch up with what was happening.

Unsure of when and how he had learnt to move as he did, Link kept the sword raised, ready for an attack, as he too circled around himself, the wolf revealing its teeth once more as they followed the path of their concentric circles.

It was waiting, Link could see that much, the Wolfos maintaining a constant distance between him, waiting for the moment where it would be able to strike. Not taking his eyes off the paws of the monster for even a moment, Link tried to force the knowledge of how to defeat it to surface, tried to sink into the feeling of the sword in his hand as he waited for the Wolfos to strike again.

It hit him from one moment to the next. The tail, it was protecting its tail. It seemed almost laughably obvious once he knew what to look for, the way the Wolfos constantly made sure to keep its tail behind its body, making an attempt at hiding it from him while snarling and baring its tusks. Shifting his weight to his front foot, Link took a steadying breath, exhaling just as the Wolfos attacked.

He barely managed to block the first strike, his blade caught between the monster’s claws, making it continue on its trajectory, its head connecting directly with his sternum, sending both of them on a collision course with the ground as he staggered backwards before finally falling.

He landed on his back, pain instantly shooting through his body, his ribcage feeling like it was on fire as the Wolfos landed on top of him, pressing him into the moss below. For a single, horrifying moment, Link felt the hilt of his sword slip in his hand, the sweat that made his body feel cold even as he knew that he was moving with more urgency than he had done in days making it slippery, but he managed to hold onto it, fighting back as the Wolfos tried to free its paw, pulling and shoving the sword around, almost managing to rip it out of his hands more than once. But even then, even as he struggled to breathe, feeling how he would be lucky to escape with only a cracked rib, Link did not let go of the sword, instead doing his best to free his right hand from where it had been trapped below him as he fell, pushing against the ground in an attempt at rolling over to remove the Wolfos from his chest and get back on his feet.

Feeling the warm breath of the Wolfos against his face as it tried once more to move past the barrier he had formed with his sword, Link summoned every last little drop of strength he had left, and, somehow, he was able to move just enough for the Wolfos to lose its balance, rolling to the side with a high-pitched whimper as he pulled his sword back from where it had been stuck between the monster’s claws and rose from the ground, swaying slightly, but remaining upright.

For a second, he could almost make himself believe that that was the end, that he had won and sent the Wolfos back to where it had come from. His head spun and his muscles ached, every breath feeling like he was swallowing fire as his lungs struggled to keep up with the adrenaline that flowed through his veins, but as he looked at where the Wolfos was still lying on the ground, Link allowed himself a moment to lower his sword. It wasn’t much, only a couple of centimetres, barely enough to give him a moment to regain his breath.

That, of course, made it the moment where the Wolfos resumed its attack, moving so quickly that Link only just had time to assume a fighting position, sword raised as he took half a step backwards to keep himself balanced as he met the attack.

It only took two strikes from the Wolfos’ claws for Link to feel how he was beginning to lose. Not only did he have to take a step backwards, the Wolfos forcing him back as it landed its blows with so much force that he had no choice but to move if he did not wish to fall, he could also feel how the force of each strike rang through the metal of the sword, making every muscle in his arm scream out with tiredness. He would not be able to keep it up for long. No matter what happened, it was a matter of seconds before the outcome would be decided, and, as it was in that moment, Link feeling the uneven surface of a tree trunk dig into his back, the tunic not offering him much protection, he knew that it would require a miracle for him to be able to win.

It all happened so quickly that he barely had time to do more than simply be, to exist, unable to accept what was happening.

With a beastly growl, the Wolfos pounced yet again, only this time, it struck from the side rather than aiming directly for his chest the way it had done before. He felt how the power behind it ripped the sword from his hand, but he did not even have time to register the way his arms burnt or whether or not the moss would be able to silence the impact of the sword meeting the ground, for the next moment, the Wolfos attacked again, and this time, there was nothing he could do other than bring up his arms in a pathetic attempt at protecting his chest and stomach, bringing his chin down to try to at least make it a little difficult for the monster to get to his neck as he closed his eyes and prayed that it would be over soon.

The next moment, his world exploded, leaving only pain behind.

Feeling how everything tilted, the ground hitting him more than he hit the ground, Link was almost sure that he must have heard someone else scream. It wasn’t possible that the sound that ripped through the air, pained, raw, and loud, could belong to him, just as the blood he could feel pouring down his face from where the Wolfos’ claws had dug into his skin could not possible be his own. He had not even registered that he had lifted his hand to press it against the wound until he felt how the water that still clung to his gloves mixed with the blood, the cold sensation of it doing little to help against the agony that filled his mind.

Forcing himself to look at what was to come, Link could not tell if it was the blood or the pain that had painted the world around him a dark red, everything blurring together as he fought to catch even a fleeting glimpse of the Wolfos. No matter what, no matter how tempting it felt to just give up, to let go and let it end, he would at least meet his demise with his chin held high. Reaching up to shield what little remained of his sight from the sun, Link found himself staring directly into the green eyes of the Wolfos.

Later, he would not be able to go through the motions again, to figure out just how he had done it or what had possessed him to act when all was so clearly lost. But in that moment, as Link looked up at what should be his imminent demise and saw the green of the forest stare back at him, the only thing that went through his head was that it would not end this way, that he had not come this far to die at the hands of a Wolfos.

A guttural scream escaped him as he somehow found the strength to reach up and press both of his hands into the soft fur of the monster, feeling how its ribcage expanded and contracted in step with its warm breaths, and poured what little energy he had left into bracing himself as he pushed back, rolling to the side the moment he felt the Wolfos move back, hands already searching blindly for his sword as he forced himself to stand up, blood and pain clouding his vision to such an extent that he could barely see anything except for the impending darkness. But he only needed that little hint of a green glow that was the monster’s eyes to know when it pounced, the growl that accompanied it sounding almost distant as Link readied himself, intent on making one last attempt.

He met its attack, felt the energy as it spread through the blade, but for the first time, he saw the weakness in its attack.

It took little more than a moment, and then he had stepped to the side, pulling the sword with him to let the Wolfos’ momentum carry in forwards, the monster unable to stop with the force it had put into its jump.

As he twirled around, feeling the air brush against his face, making every last bit of him scream out with pain, Link could already feel how the fight came to a close, but even then, he did not allow himself to relax until the moment he felt how metal met flesh, sinking in, moving through muscle, tendons, and bones. At last, he felt the fur brush against his hands, his own blood soon becoming mixed with the gore that gushed from the wound. Only when he could no longer feel the Wolfos twitch as it struggled to remain alive, did Link let go, his knees buckling below him to let him drop to the ground.

It was over. It was finally over.

But as much as Link would have loved to remain where he was, sitting next to the carcass, the way his face seemed to burn, the pain only growing in intensity as the adrenaline seeped out of him, called for his attention, and so, he slowly got to his feet again, placing his right foot on the limp body of the Wolfos to keep it in place as he, feeling how the blood on his hands threatened to make the hilt slip out of his grasp, pulled out the sword. With the sword still in his hand, Link slowly made his way back towards the pond, dragging himself over there more than he walked, for once grateful for its presence.

Sticking his hand into the water, he could already feel how the coldness of it soothed the little cuts he had not noticed until then, all his focus being consumed by the fiery pain that seemed to radiate from a spot just above his right eye, sending long tendrils of agony through his body as he cupped his hands and slowly, careful not to inflict even more pain, brought the water up to his face.

He could have spared himself the effort. There was a second where he could almost convince himself that he had won the fight, that he would be able to remain quiet, but then the scream also felt like it was ripped from the depths of his soul, echoing around him as the only thing he could do was to fall to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest as the salt of the tears made the fire burn even more viciously.

But he continued. Again and again, he would bring up his hands, pouring water against the wound, slowly feeling how the blood began to coagulate, no longer pouring down his face as much as it was trickling along his cheek until even that stopped. But he continued, keeping his left eye shut, the right side of his face no longer obeying his commands, the lack of control somehow feeling more unnerving than the pain that refused to dull. Deep down, Link knew what must have happened, the memories of how the men had been brought in, some of them crying as medics ran around them, but most of them just staring up without blinking, appearing within his mind, as if to make up for the darkness. Long gashes around the eyes, some of them having lost it completely, and others finally opening their eyes, only to reveal a blank stare as they couldn’t meet his gaze.

His was panicking. Link could feel that, his mind swimming as his breath quickened. Placing his hand flat against the ground, he only barely resisted the urge to curl in around himself and cry, pushing back against the bile that rose in his throat. It would be all right. He knew that he was lying, that it would not be possible, but he had to believe that it would be all right. Slowly, gripping onto the grass beneath him, Link forced himself to open his eyes and lean out over the water, both fearing what he would see in his reflection and intensely aware of how he had to know for certain what had happened.

At first, there was nothing, the dark surface of the water being little more than a blur to him, shadows already creeping in from the corners of his field of vision, making the world around him dark, but as Link gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain conscious, his eyes still burning as he refused to close them again, the reflected image slowly began to brighten in front of him, allowing him to assess the extent of the damages the Wolfos’ claws had been able to inflict.

Parallel lines, all three of them deep and inflamed, blood still oozing from them, cut through the right side of his face, starting just beneath his temple and continuing towards his nose. But that was not what made his stomach churn, Link hearing the little whimper leave him to echo through the forest around him, mirroring the images of the men who had cried when the medics had told them that there was nothing left for them to do other than to perhaps buy an eye patch to cover up the wound. No, what made the world tilt around him, almost sending him headfirst into the water, was the sight of his right eye, deep marks having been cut into it, cutting directly across the iris, the pupil little more than a white dot amidst the burst blood vessels, clots of blood, and what he now knew was ruined nerve endings.

He was barely able to find the strength to get back up, moving away from the pond like it had burnt him, like it was to blame for the searing pain. There were so many other things he should have worried about, the risk of infection, the fact that the blood was still warm against his skin as it continued to trickle down his cheek, the flow having been reduced but not stopped completely, but as he finally stumbled over his own feet, his body heavy and uncooperative, the only thoughts that went through his head were those that returned his attention to his eye, the lines and the way they had continued directly across his eye being all he could see as he landed on his back, looking up at the tree tops above him without truly seeing them.

His eye.

Raising his hand up in front of him, Link could not quite stifle the sob that rose in his throat as he brought it closer to his face, only to realise that not only was the sole visual indication he had of him moving his hand the way it appeared larger the closer it got to his face, he also missed the tip of his nose, instead brushing right past it to touch his cheek.

His eye.

Somewhere next to him, the sword must be lying on the ground, dropped and abandoned in his haste to look at what had happened, to gain certainty, but although he knew that, should another monster appear to attack him, he would be defenceless, Link could not bring himself to move, let alone care about what might happen to him. What good was a weapon to him now? What would he even do with a sword when he could barely make out the outline of his own hand, much less decide distance and depth?

Link did not know whether the darkness that washed in over him was the last of his vision leaving him, or the result of his body having given up completely, nor did he care. All that mattered in those moments was that it brought the pain to an end, for once granting him a short rest from his thoughts.

+++

He could not see when the forest would end. As the days went by, Link sleeping more than he was awake, barely getting a chance to look at the sun before his body ordered him to give in to the temptation of sleep, the last bit of hope evaporated a little more with each time Link would look directly ahead and see nothing but a flat surface of green that did not reveal how much he had left or whether or not it would ever end. Deep down, he knew the answer, had known it for longer than he was prepared to admit, but that did not change the fact that it was that last change that had finally stolen what little hope he had been able to maintain. It was not even a matter of the inexorable pain having overwhelmed him at last. He knew how to handle pain, knew how to take it apart, refuse to acknowledge it as a physical feeling, and instead dissect it, analysing its causes and the warning it carried, before shoving it away, banishing it to the back of his mind as he journeyed on. No, it was the fact that, even as he began to grow used to the darkness, the way he was no longer able to make out each leaf of the trees even while standing directly in front of them, the forest continued to be a never-ending surface in front of him, as flat as the drawings he must have created in a childhood he could only recall vague glimpses of. That was what truly made him realise what the answer to the question of whether or not he would ever be able to escape would be.

There was nothing left for him to do, everything turning into a routine of waking, walking, wondering, only realising that he had slept when he would wake up again. Sometimes, the sun would shine down from above, the sickly, green hue that reached him through the crowns of the trees letting him know that it was midday. Other times, he would just barely be able to catch a glimpse of the moon through the foliage above him.

Perhaps it was a sign that he was beginning to lose his mind to the forest, but as he lay there yet again, trying to find the energy to get back up, Link could almost make himself believe that the moon was looking down at him, a sad smile cutting across its rocky surface. As much as it should have frightened him to realise that it was all falling apart around him, it brought him an odd sense of joy to look up at the grimace, for a moment able to convince himself that he knew this, that this was something familiar to him. The Stalfos would take him in the end. Link had come to accept that, but as he lay there, feeling the muscles around his mouth tighten in a way he could not recall having felt for a long time to form a crooked smile, it felt almost like it might be all right after all. The moon was there with him, watching over him. As he recalled the memory of having looked up at the moon before, the images appearing and disappearing in his mind’s eye before he even had time to register more than a mess of colours and emotions, Link was somewhat able to believe that he was not completely alone in the forest.

+++

He walked.

He staggered.

He crawled.

Pushing his hand into the moss as he fought to continue, sweat dripping from his chin, all he could see was green. Green around him, green above him, green beneath him.

Feeling how his arms gave up beneath him, no longer able to support his weight, Link rolled over, his arm aching as his full weight landed on it. Glancing down to try to decide whether or not the wounds had been reopened, Link felt his heart skip a beat as he was once again met with the horrible green light, his tunic almost seeming to cut into his mind with green, green, green.

It was only when he felt how his hands began to bleed that he realised he had been clawing at the fabric, the seams protesting the rough treatment as the threads began to give in to the pull as he fought to get it off, off off.

With a cry, Link reached up, the sleeve finally letting go with a sound that felt like an explosion in the silence of the forest as he tore it off, throwing the useless piece of fabric away from himself.

Green.

It almost felt like his tears might be green as well. At least Link did not have to look at them, his body soon giving in to the exhaustion once again.

+++

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the first sensation that filled his mind as he woke up was not the dull pain of the innumerable scratches and cuts that covered his body, nor was it the burning fire that seemed to have filled his right eye socket, as if to make up for the lack of sight. Instead, Link opened his eyes to find himself looking up at a soft, golden light, the pain having been replaced with an almost strange feeling of contentment.

Slowly, faintly noting how he was waiting for it all to disappear again, torn away from him the moment he would allow himself to reach out for it, Link sat up. His sword was gone, he realised, but although he should have been worried, for some inexplicable reason, he knew that he would not need it here.

That was when he looked around, taking in his surroundings, the dark green grass beneath him creating what almost felt like a rug as he pushed himself to his feet, slowly spinning around.

It was clear that something had changed, but even as Link looked around and saw how the golden light shone down, illuminating the glade, seemingly with the intent of drawing his gaze towards the stump of a tree next to him, he could not deny the feeling that there was something he had missed.

The realisation hit him from one second to the next. There was depth to it. Rather than finding himself looking at a painting, a lurid shade of green that continued on for forever as if to tease him, a little laugh as it reminded him that he was never getting out again, as Link turned once more, he could see how the sun cast a long shadow behind the stump. He could see how there were a couple of metres between himself and the aged tree next it. He could see.

With his heart in is throat, Link lifted his hand. Part of him was screaming at him to lower it again, to let himself live in the illusion rather than allowing it to fall apart once more, fine lines cutting into the perfect image in front of him, but he pushed through, letting his fingertips brush over the wounds that cut across his face.

Only, he never did. Instead of feeling the rough surface of scar tissue of dried blood, he felt soft skin, drawing a line down where the cuts should have been, only to feel eyebrows, eyelid, and eyelashes. But most importantly of all, as Link opened his eyes, he saw his hand, saw all of it and not just what little he would have been able to see with his left eye.

His eyes stung as the tears began to trickle, but it was a comforting pain, one that reminded him that he could still feel something that was not caused by a monster intent on killing him.

The melody was quiet at first, Link barely giving it a second thought, brushing it off as his mind trying its best to make sense of what was happening, the mended tunic, healed wound, and relaxed muscles only being the first to have registered in his mind, but as it continued, growing louder, Link could no longer ignore it.

Turning his head to the side, he tried to decide its origin, something about the combination of notes and the soft sound of an instrument reaching deep into a spot in his memory he had forgot all about to bring back the same kind of warmth as the one the sun shining down above him brought to him.

There.

Taking a shaky step forwards, only to find that he was able to walk, able to run, Link began to make his way towards the centre of the glade, towards the tree stump where a ray of sun hit the wood, making it look almost like something that did not quite belong in this world.

He was halfway over there, feeling how he began sprinting without giving it a second thought, when the air began to shift, the light growing in intensity in front of his eyes and yet never becoming so bright that he was not able to continue to look at it.

The sunbeams almost looking like threads, weaving in and out among each other, a figure slowly appeared in front of him.

At first, it was little more than a shimmer, Link barely able to make out the way the sunlight formed a smile, continuing up towards the hair that soon took on an emerald colour, but then, quicker and quicker, the person became solid, the sun receding as they opened their eyes. Green hair moved as a soft breeze pushed past both of them, the stranger placing the instrument on the stump before beginning to walk towards him, the steps at first seeming unsure, but growing more and more purposeful as Link felt his own heartbeat mark the passage of time.

His mind supplied him with the name before he had got the chance to wonder how it had happened.

“Saria.”

In an instant, it all returned. The ocarina, it was an ocarina he had heard, the same ocarina she had held in her hands as she pushed herself off the tree stump, looking at him for a moment with a twinkle in her eyes he knew better than his own reflection. She was the reason he had been there in the first place, his reason for having left the town that had become his home over the years to instead journey into the Lost Woods.

“Link,” Saria responded, already laughing by the time he reached her, returning his embrace with the same warmth as the sun above them, “it is good to see you.”

“I—” he didn’t realise that he was crying until he heard his voice break, and although he wanted to stop, wanted to keep himself from crying into her hair, Link could not stop the tears, much less try to tell her how happy he was to have found her.

Thankfully, Saria must have read everything he could ever have wanted to tell her in his expression, the understanding clear in her eyes as she moved back to look at him, the smile not dimming for even a moment. “I know, I know. It is difficult. But, no matter what, you will always be my best friend. Always.”

“Always?” he repeated the word, already knowing what it meant, what would happen now. However, unlike the times he had stared death in the eye before, there was none of the fear and anger, only acceptance. It was how it would end, and that was all right. There was no doom looming over Hyrule, no one he would leave behind for certain death now. It was all right; he was ready. In a way, Link supposed he must have been ready for far longer than he had been aware off, reaching out to take Saria’s hand as she nodded in response to his silent question.

No one would come out of the Lost Woods with their soul intact if they had first got lost in there. Perhaps he should have worried, should have wondered what it would mean for the anger, fear, sadness, and hurt he had left behind when he had first awakened in the glade, but they were all distant thoughts, worries he had left behind in an old life.

“Yes,” Saria whispered, tightening her hold around his hand with a little smile, “always. If you come with me, there will be no way back.”

The way she looked at him, the hesitant look in her eyes and the way the smile grew a bit less bright, made it clear that he was meant to ask what would lie ahead if he came with her. But he didn’t. No matter what the answer might have been, as Link looked down at his best friend, the melody she had taught him still echoing around them, flowing from the ocarina that still lay on the tree stump, illuminated by a shimmering light, he knew without a doubt that he would not turn around now.

“I won’t need a way back. Not if I am with you.”

For a second, he almost thought that she would say something, but in the end, she remained quiet, letting him simply be and exist in her presence as she slowly, taking small, even steps, began to lead him back towards the tree stump, the light twisting, growing, as if to embrace them. Around him, Link heard how her song grew, soon becoming all he could hear, silencing even the beat of his own heart. It was peaceful, a kind of joy he had not known in years, and for the first time since he had left the forest, he could share it with his best friend. Already, Link could feel how the ocarina had been returned to him, the weight of it in his pocket grounding him, holding the promise of them staying in the glade just as they had done in their childhood.

Looking down at Saria, Link walked towards the light, the freeing feeling of falling asleep after a long day spreading through his body with every step. It was the way it was supposed to be. He could finally be at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this!


End file.
